


One Chance

by ImagineYourself



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: Will spoke, voice shaky, into Hannibal’s skin, “I’ll give you one chance.”
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 76





	One Chance

“You were supposed to leave.”

“We couldn’t leave without you.”

Abigail’s face swam in his view, distorting Will’s vision even as he felt Hannibal’s presence behind him. Will lowered his gun, his arms dropping to his sides. A muted thud signified that he had let the weapon slip through his fingers and it fell to the floor with a clatter; muted for the white noise in Will’s ears, focused so intensely on the soft breath at the back of his neck.

“Won’t you come with us?”

Abigail’s lips didn’t match her words, but her eyes held a hint of hope even through the fear, the shame.

“Do you want me to?” Will heard himself asking, unsure if he had actually let his voice out or if it was just an echo inside his skull.

He must have said them because Abigail smiled shyly, taking a step towards him. “Yes.”

How simple yet how profound that a single sound could have so much meaning. Will wasn’t sure what was real and what was not, half convinced he was talking to a ghost.

Reality started to shape again when he felt hands, warm and strong, on his shoulders, tipping him to the side as Hannibal moved around him. Will’s eyes were wide, but he wasn’t imagining the smallest of smiles on Hannibal’s lips. That was real. As real as the palm laid against his cheek, drawing him in until his forehead was touched by those smiling lips.

How simple yet how profound that a single touch could have so much meaning, no sound even needed. Still, Will desired to speak, if only so that Abigail would know.

“I’m sorry.”

Hannibal’s hand tightened on his jaw, urging Will to look up and meet his eyes, full of emotion like Will had never seen before.

“You are forgiven.”

Almost immediately after he spoke, Abigail shouted, “No! Hannibal don’t!”

Will looked to her in surprise as she caught his arm and tugged him, lurching to the side, away from Hannibal. Disbelieving, he quickly searched Abigail’s face only to find her glaring, eyes shiny, at Hannibal. When Will turned his head back to the other man, it was to see his face twisted and holding a knife in one hand.

“Abigail,” he said sternly, his demeanor rapidly changing to one of cool annoyance.

She stood her ground, holding tightly to Will’s arm even as she pushed herself slightly in front of him. “Don’t hurt him. Please.”

Her voice was soft, low, though her stance was protective. Will did not shake free from her clutch, but he turned to her, ignoring Hannibal though that left him vulnerable. Quietly, he told her, “It’s all right.” He touched her hair and continued, “I deserve it. I betrayed him. And you.”

Abigail shook her head vehemently. “No, you didn’t. They must have told you to do it, right? Did they threaten you?”

“No one threatened me,” Will said, avoiding an honest answer. If he was going to betray her, he might as well do it completely.

Tears welled in Abigail’s eyes. “No. I don’t believe you.” She let go of his arm only to wrap him in hers, her head on his shoulder.

It was easy—all too easy—to squeeze her tight, a hand on her back and on her head, shushing her as she cried softly. After a moment, Will looked over her shoulder and at Hannibal.

Hannibal was watching them with a calculated stare, unmoved from his previous spot. As Will looked, their eyes met, Hannibal’s nearly black as he was partly shrouded in shadow. Hannibal blinked.

Mind made up, Will gentled Abigail away from him. She let him go, wiped her face, and took a step back so she was out of his way, no longer between him and Hannibal. That last barrier was removed, leaving Will bare.

He approached cautiously, mindful of creature he was moving towards. Completely unarmed, naked, vulnerable, Will lifted a hand. Lightly he touched Hannibal’s cheek, slid his fingers back, through distraught hair, to cup the back of his head. He brought their foreheads together, almost a mockery of Hannibal’s earlier touches, only this time Will was the one cradling.

Steadily he went closer, his eyes not leaving Hannibal’s for even a second. Aware that Hannibal was still holding the knife he intended to gut him with, Will pressed against him. Even feeling the blade pressing against the material of his shirt, piercing his flesh, the warm spill of blood wetting his belly, Will continued until their chests were touching. Tilting his head to the side, Will tucked his face into Hannibal’s neck, gasping.

His hand was forced to shift as Hannibal bent his neck to press his nose behind Will’s ear, inhaling so deeply that it threatened to push Will’s body away. Will could only breathe shallowly, feeling blood soaking his front and surely Hannibal’s, too.

Will spoke, voice shaky, into Hannibal’s skin, “I’ll give you one chance.”

Hannibal whispered in return, “Should I not be the one giving _you_ a chance?”

“Not at all.” Will made a sound like laughter, his body shivering, still impaled. “You get one chance. One chance to kill me. If you leave me alive, I’ll never forgive you.”

“And if I take you alive?” Hannibal knew better than to think Will wanted to die here.

Smiling, Will said, “Then you can eat me.”

Hannibal removed the knife from his stomach, stepping away so suddenly that Will crumpled to his knees. Abigail ran to him, pawing at his shoulders, then his shirt. She was calling Hannibal’s name, but Will was smiling, happy regardless of the pain. Perhaps even because of the pain.

Returning to him, Hannibal brought a towel and pressed it to his wound, instructing him to hold it tightly, though he needn’t have. Will had suffered enough injuries.

Overjoyed, Will could hardly hear, his ears ringing. Hannibal was saying something about the car being packed. He asked if Abigail could drive. Effortlessly, he picked up Will from the floor and carried him across the room. Then Will was laid in the backseat of a car, the towel leaving his hands. His shirt was pushed up, smearing blood across his chest and he startled with the sharp sting of his wound.

The engine rumbled, they were moving. When Will opened his eyes, unsure of when he had closed them, he found Hannibal above him, brow furrowed in concentration. He assumed Abigail was driving since Hannibal was busy cleaning off Will’s stomach to stitch it up. The car went over a bump too fast, jostling them, and Will made a noise of pain.

“Sorry!” Abigail said over her shoulder.

Hannibal didn’t even look up from Will. “It’s all right, Abigail. There’s no need to rush. He’ll be right as rain soon.”

Will laughed, the sound choked and breathy. Still, he reached out with the arm closest to her and set his bloody hand between the drivers’ and passengers’ seats. He felt Abigail’s fingers clutch his. As much as it would ground her, it grounded him just as well.

Quietly, he drifted. Hannibal had him, he was safe. Funny how the safest place was once the most terrifying, not minutes ago. Hannibal put in the last stitches and properly bandaged him while he drifted. His limp hands were taken by Hannibal and placed on a cold pack which rested atop the bandage. Apparently satisfied, he watched Hannibal stash his first aid kit under the seat.

“Cold,” Will complained. He was unaffected by the dismissive expression Hannibal turned on him.

“It will help with the bleeding and the pain.”

Hannibal maneuvered Will’s legs, which had been pinned underneath him, so that he sat rightly, with Will’s knees over his lap. To Will’s surprise, Hannibal rested his hands lightly together on one of his legs. The warmth of his skin seeped through the fabric of Will’s pants easily. It felt almost natural.

“Where are we going?” Will eventually asked after a minute of silence. He wasn’t quite present yet, but he was aware enough. Mostly, he was listening to the patter of rain on the rooftop.

“Europe.”

“Oh.” Will deliberated for a few more silent minutes. Abigail apparently didn’t need directions to what he assumed would be the airport. He asked, “And my dogs?”

Hannibal patted his leg, surprising Will again. These easy touches were novel; to be read later. “We’ll make arrangements.” Will just hummed in acknowledgement.

“You have passports?” Will figured that Hannibal had everything they needed, but he wanted to make sure. There had been a distinct possibility he would never have even seen the inside of Hannibal's car that night.

“Yes.” Finally, Hannibal turned to peer into his face. Streetlamps cast a yellow glow on them both. “I have been prepared for some time. There’s nothing for you to worry about, dear Will. Though I suspect you’ll come up with something else to worry over.”

Will grinned, pleased with the assessment. He closed his eyes for the rest of the drive, only peeking under one squinted eye when Hannibal began running his thumb back and forth gently, slowly, across his thigh.

**Author's Note:**

> I really haven't written any prose in... months. First Hannibal fic, too. Recently rewatched the series so I've been jotting down a few poems lately while thinking about Will and Abigail. Today's poem was about giving Hannibal an ultimatum, love Will or leave Will. And thus I wrote a fic about it.  
>  _Psst, when Will says eat he really means in the bedroom._


End file.
